


How Can I Fly On Broken Wings?

by smudgedink02



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Actor Oikawa Tooru, Aged-Up Character(s), Author Tsukishima Kei, Film Designer Iwaizumi Hajime, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Tattooed Iwaizumi Hajime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudgedink02/pseuds/smudgedink02
Summary: Oikawa has it all. He is a famous actor, a beloved personality and a deliciously eligible bachelor. But a devastating end to his friendship with Iwaizumi has left his bed cold and his heart broken.After finding out Iwaizumi did the film designs for his new film, Oikawa is determined to take back what he lost so long ago.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 7





	How Can I Fly On Broken Wings?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello peeps. This is my first time writing on here so a few disclaimers:
> 
> \- I have no clue what I'm doing  
> \- I am very much not Japanese so honorifics are being given a miss and names are probably going to be misspelled along the line  
> \- I am notoriously awful at updating my works on any platform but I do write to procrastinate my school work, so as a girl in her final year of a levels, expect at least more than one chapter.  
> \- Enjoy :)

“So, Oikawa,” The interviewer says, leaning forward in her chair, “you star as tortured artist Shouta Subaru in your new film Broken Wings. It's your second time working with directors Sugawara and Sawamura, and a vast departure from your usual roles. How did you find the adjustment to such a dark and troubled character?” 

Oikawa regarded her with fake attentiveness and a carefully crafted friendly demeanour. He was exhausted, and his eyes stung without his glasses. At least the designer woollen jumper his stylist had thrust upon him was comfortable; better than the scratchy shirt that left red marks on his neck yesterday. Mari had thought they were hickeys as she covered the bags under his eyes with a concealer. He had played along, winking at her and smiling coyly in the way tabloids described as hotter than the sun. 

If only he could have had that much fun. He spent his days sticking to the script for promoting his newest film, flirting with bland interviewers with their even blander questions. Then, after meetings with his agent, going to the gym and eating a disgustingly healthy tea, he would go to bed. A cold, empty bed where he spent his nights analysing other actor’s work until he could no longer keep his eyes open. For all his fame, youth, and position as Japan’s most eligible bachelor, Oikawa Tooru was depressingly alone. 

"To prepare for my role, I did a lot of research into the lives of troubled artists like Vincent Van Gogh, talked to Tsukishima Kei to properly understand my character." He made sure to emphasise all the appropriate words and inject enough enthusiasm into his statement to keep up his friendly persona. He managed to maintain it even as the interviewer started gushing about Tsukishima Kei and all of his books. 

"I have heard Tsukishima is very particular when it comes to the adaptations of his books to the big screen. He also likes to stay on set during filming. What is he like to work with?" 

Oikawa would have given anything to tear up his script and start ranting about the human stain that was Tsukishima Kei. But alas, he was a professional, with a reputation of being charming and flirtatious. Well, he can use that to his advantage. 

"Ah, I love working with Tsuki. He comes across as an antisocial and emotionally stunted man, but he is a giant teddy bear. I love it when he comes on set; it motivates me to work my hardest. There is something about looking over and seeing this blonde bean pole with a constipated look on his face that brings out the best in my performance. I think it is because the tortured artist narrative is so personal to him."

The interviewer laughed, the pettiness of his statement flying straight over her head. Oikawa discreetly glanced at the designer watch on his wrist. Christ, the interview had barely started. At least it was his last one of the day. Kiyoko had set him up a sushi date with Matsukawa after the interview was over. He was looking forward to seeing his high school friend again - it had been too long since he could be himself around someone and have a genuine laugh. 

"Of course, Tsukishima was not the only artist brought on board to help bring this masterpiece together. The amazing Iwazumi Hajime designed all the art pieces within the films. They are stunning and add a new layer of richness to the film. How do you feel Iwaizumi's art pieces represent your character?" 

Oikawa's smile froze. He could feel the stinging in his eyes morph into a headache. Iwaizumi had worked on his film? Had he been on set? Had he seen him? He tried to swallow, but his throat felt like sandpaper. It had been so long since he had heard that name and yet it reopened old wounds that had never properly healed. Flashes of high school corridors, volleyball courts and the winding roads of their hometown raced through his mind. He closed his eyes as he tried to block out the image of Iwaizumi's closed off expression as he turned his back to him. 

"Oikawa?" The interviewer broke through his downward spiral into painful memories. She looked confused but not worried. Good; he had not ruined the interview. 

"Ah, sorry. It is such an interesting question I got lost thinking about it. You're a wonderful interviewer." He smiled playfully at the woman. She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"You are as charming as they say," she flirted back, a new and dangerous fire in her eyes. Oikawa knew that look all too well. Five minutes ago, he might have taken up on the offer dancing in those flames. She was a pretty woman with long legs and a tasteful yet tempting low cut top. But his mouth was full of ashes from a fire prematurely extinguished years ago. 

"So, Iwaizumi," she continued, too professional and experienced to let him dodge the question. "What did you think of his work?" She sat further forward in her chair, discreetly flashing a hint of her bra. It was powder blue - the same colour as their old volleyball uniforms. Oikawa subtly cleared his throat. 

"His work is very expressive. I feel it accurately represents the inner turmoil of my character as he struggles to maintain his grasp on reality. The film would not be complete without them. If they had let me paint myself, the audience would be laughing at my awful art skills rather than enjoying the story. "It was not the smoothest answer Oikawa had ever given. It was, however, the best he could do considering he was dangerously close to a panic attack. 

He'd known Iwaizumi had become a film designer; it had been his dream his whole life. He'd known that he was very successful- it was impossible to avoid any mention of one of the biggest names in the industry. However, what he had not known was that Iwaizumi was the designer for Broken Wings. He'd held Iwaizumi's art. In some scenes, he'd broken Iwaizumi's art. Why had no one told him? 

The rest of the interview passed with Oikawa on autopilot. His body acted the role whilst his mind lost itself in the past. High school had felt like such a long time ago, and yet he could remember it as clear as if it were yesterday. When the interviewer finally stood up to shake his hand after the camera had finished filming, she slipped her number into his palm. He smiled one last time at her and placed the number in his trouser pocket, where so many other numbers had gone. It had never been the right number, never the one that he had waited to hear from for years. As he left the room to meet Kiyoko, he mentally scolded himself. He'd been over it. He'd moved on. There was no need to let the mere mention of his name to affect him so much. But no matter how many times he told himself he was fine, it did not stop the old pieces of tape keeping his heart together from falling to the floor. 

He would never stop regretting how things had ended with Iwaizumi. It had been a cold March day with frost coating the grass and their breaths mingling in puffs of frozen air. It would have been a forgettable day if Oikawa had not opened his mouth. He screwed his eyes shut as Iwaizumi's closed off expression rose unbidden once again to the forefront of his mind. 

Oikawa had rejected many people in his life. He'd placed a comforting hand on many shoulders of female classmates and turned many men away with the subtle shake of the head. He had never expected rejection himself. Maybe that was selfish. But standing next to his best friend on that cold March day, all he could think about was their future as something more. He had gone to bed on that day more alone then he had ever been in his life. As Kiyoko handed him his glasses and he got into the car for dinner with Matsukawa, he knew tonight would be no different.


End file.
